The True Followers
by elgallifrey
Summary: After winning a major holy war and becoming drunk on power, the temple of Bahamut has betrayed their patron god, the god of justice, and become a corrupt institution bent on monopolizing world religion. Can a small party of adventuring heroes put a stop to the temple's wrongdoing? Original story utilizing some D&D canon mythology.
1. Prologue

A hundred years ago there was a holy war between the followers of Bahamut, the god of justice, and the demon lords of the Abyss. The war was long and bloody, lasting for twenty years, and many people became disenchanted with Bahamut and his followers. They turned instead to demons and devils.

There was a second great Holy War. The followers of Bahamut travelled around the world, killing anyone who was a follower of a demon lord. This war became known as the Great Purge. Now, almost everyone follows the temple of Bahamut.


	2. The Road to Alderhollow

Roy Silverbow sat in the corner of the crowded tavern, quietly sipping an ale. His long brown hair was tucked behind his elven ears and a large bow was strapped to his back. The tavern was an old breeding grounds for hired blades in the city of Fallcrest, and, being penniless, that was precisely why Roy was here.

Three others sat beside him, filling up the bar: a human wizard with a wand tucked in his shirt-sleeve; then a dragonborn paladin, renegade by the looks of him, as not too many paladins employed by the temple of Bahamut would end up in a place like this; and finally, at the opposite end from Roy sat a rogue with sallow skin and dark eyes. Roy eyed him suspiciously.

Fallcrest was a large town in the north, surrounded by thick forest. These people had gathered in this tavern because they were all about to be hired for a quest in the far northern lands, which is home only to small scattered villages. Roy himself didn't know what the quest entailed yet, except that it included a day's journey north to a village called Alderhollow.

A man entered the tavern and approached the group. "You're here about the Alderhollow job, right?" he said, gruffly.

The four all nodded wordlessly.

"My employer wants someone to scout the area and is willing to pay – generously. Thirty gold up front, and thirty more upon your return. It's an easy job for the price…"

"What's the catch?" said Black.

Roy looked distrustfully at the man and added, "Why do you need scouts?"

"There are plans in the works to build a road from Alderhollow to Fallcrest," said the messenger, "And my employer wants to make sure work goes smoothly. That's all."

He took out four pouches, each bulging with the weight of thirty gold, and laid them on the counter. The job is too good to pass up. Roy took one – and, he saw, so did the others.

When the messenger had left, Roy turned to the rest of the group. He said, "On this job, there's got to be something he's not telling us. I'm Roy, by the way, Roy Silverbow."

"Cynder," offered the dragonborn paladin readily. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm August," said the wizard. "We'll be working together for a while, so it's good to get to know each other. You seem trustworthy enough."

"Black Widow. You done jobs like this before, August?" asked the rogue.

"A few," August responded vaguely. "To make ends meet."

Black narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you sponsored by a college or something?"

"I've been striking out on my own."

"We're all doing this for the money," interrupted Roy. "That's what matters. Everyone has their own reasons."

Black shrugged.

"Alderhollow is a day's journey from here, through the thick forest," said Cynder. "We'd better set off."

"We'll need a cart," suggested August.

#

It was the dead of winter and a permanent layer of frost covered the ground. The canopy in the forest was so thick that only the occasional spot of sunlight could be seen shimmering on the ground, and the rest was engulfed in a thick darkness. The forest floor was littered with moss and stones. From somewhere in the trees, an owl hooted menacingly.

Roy readied his bow and aimed it into the canopy. He released it and, a second later, the bird fell with a thud to the ground. "Dinner," he said, as August looked on with equal parts awe and disgust. They grabbed the carcass, threw it into their small cart, and pushed on into the woods.

Finally, the group entered a small clearing.

"Want to break for lunch?" asked August.

"I think we should keep going," said Black. "Make the most of our sunlight. Don't want to arrive in the dark."

"We'll make it either way," offered Cynder.

"Yes, but I'm sure this forest has many things we don't want to face that come out at night."

Cynder looked to Roy, and then his expression changed to one of shock. "Roy – move very slowly – away from the trees…"

But it was too late. Just as he said that, Roy felt something land with a thump onto his back and a searing pain in his shoulder. Frantically, he beat the beast off with his bow and shot an arrow through its heart – only to see three more in front of him. They were giant dire rats, with sickly yellow eyes.

He raised his bow and shot another, and the rest of the party took down the other two with relative ease. Roy felt the warm stickiness of blood running down his back, but the wound felt strangely numb. As he took a step, he nearly stumbled.

"Looks like we don't want to stop here after all," mused Cynder. This hardly merited a response, except to continue on through the forest for a while. For a few minutes Roy kept pace, but then his movements began to slow. His face felt hot, burning even.

August looked back at him and the group stopped. "I've seen it before," he said. "It's called filth fever. It will kill you if you can't find an antidote. If you want to live… you might make it back to Fallcrest." He began rummaging through his bag in an effort to see if he had a potion that would work, but evidently comes up empty-handed.

"No, he won't make it," said Cynder. "Look at him. Maybe we can find an antidote in Alderhollow."

Roy's normally sharp eyes were clouded with confusion and weakness. "I'll keep going," he says.

Cynder offered him a hand. The group pressed on through the dark forest.

#

Finally they came across a shabby wooden gate. It was open and unmanned. "Is this Alderhollow?" asked Cynder, surprised at the state of it. "They're building a road here?"

He pushed the gate and it swung open with a loud creak to reveal what appeared to be a ghost town with rows of empty wooden houses.

Roy saw a figure move in the corner of his eye. There was a flurry of motion – and then Roy found himself held with a dagger to the throat. In a matter of seconds, his hands were tied with thick rope. The rest of the group faced similar fates.

There were at least ten bandits, none of them a day older than twenty years old, a mix of humans and half-elves. Suddenly, one raised his hand and all of the others stopped what they were doing and looked to him.

The young man who raised his hand was one of the oldest of the group, evidently a half-elf, with a shock of pure white hair and blue eyes. He looked to the party.

"Tell me why you're here," he said, "Or I will kill you."


	3. The Dragon's Den

"We're here on a scouting mission," explained Cynder.

The young man narrowed his eyes. "Who hired you?"

"We don't know," said the dragonborn. "Honest."

There was a drawn-out silence before the young man gestured to the group of bandits and they began untying the party. "Fine," he said. "Are you here to investigate the deaths?"

Black looked up with interest. "What deaths?"

"The deaths of the villagers, and the one city man. I knew they would send someone… they don't care about us, but when one of their own gets killed…" The young man paused. "Do you even know why you were sent here?"

Roy and Cynder exchanged glances. "How did they die?" asked Roy, trying to ignore the burning pain that was quickly spreading throughout his arm.

"Monsters. There are monsters living in the cave outside the village. If you're here to investigate the deaths, I'm here to help you. My name is Twile Nantuk." He motions to the ragtag group of bandits. "This is my crew."

"Nice to meet you," said Cynder.

Twile nodded. "I know the city folks think we're the murderers, but we're not. We're just pickpockets. And we wouldn't kill one of our own, let alone take ourselves out one by one. Whatever this thing is, it's been picking us off for months."

"What are they?" asked Black.

"Nobody knows," Twile answered. "Nobody has seen it – or them."

August looked to Roy urgently. "Do you have an antidote for filth fever anywhere in this village?"

Twile pointed to one of the houses. "That's the healer's hut. She'll know."

Cynder half-carried Roy to the healer's hut and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal an old woman on the other side. She looked at Roy and said, "It's filth fever. Bring him inside."

The inside of the hut was dimly lit and heated by a small firepit in the center of the room. Cynder laid Roy down on a shabby-looking cot next to the firepit. The old woman had already set about, combining into a mixture various herbs that were strewn all about in all kinds of containers.

Twile entered, with Black and August behind him. They watched on in silence for a while, then Black asked, "Why is your crew all so young?"

The half-elf stared at the floorboards in silence for a moment, as if mulling over what to say. "Our parents were all killed when the purge came to our village. We were hit hard."

"They were demon worshippers?" asked August.

"No," said Twile quickly. "This village used to be a temple devoted to the four free gods: Corellon, Melora, Sehanine, and Avandra. We were killed just because our gods were gods other than Bahamut, not because our gods were demons. The free gods are neutral."

"I've seen it before," said Cynder. "It happened – all over the place. That's why I wouldn't participate in the war…"

"You deserted the temple of Bahamut?" asked Black.

Cynder nodded. August patted him on the back.

The healer by this time had concocted her ingredients into a potion. She offered it to Roy, who took it with both hands to steady himself and drank.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream split the air. The group rushed out the door, leaving Roy and trying to search out the source of the sound. Twile checked outside the village gate. "Over here!" he shouted, and August, Black, and Cynder followed.

They found Twile kneeling beside the prone form of a child, a puddle of red forming beneath the small body. The face had been bitten off.

"Dead," said Twile in frustration. "Another one."

#

It was already nightfall, and the group agreed to spend the night in the village. By morning, Roy was feeling much stronger. As thanks, they gave their owl to the village healer, then regrouped outside.

"I think it's time we take down whatever is in that cave," said Twile.

"We were hired only as scouts," said Black. "Our job is done. We could turn back now."

"The villagers need our help," said Cynder.

"Maybe we'll find treasure in the cave," offered Roy. "It might be worth our while after all."

August nodded. "I'm with Roy. We might find something worth way more than sixty gold."

With that, Black shrugged. "If you insist," he said. "Though, I still say we should take our sixty gold and go."

Twile led the group out and around to the side of the village, where they found a cave. There was a space carved out in the shape of an entrance, but it was blocked by a huge slab resembling a door. The door was covered in strange inscriptions.

As soon as he could make out the inscriptions, Cynder stopped short. "That's draconic," he whispered sharply. "Whatever's in there – it speaks draconic, that's for sure."

Twile stared hard at the door. "Oh no," he said. "If we have dragon problems –"

"I told you we should have taken our sixty gold," said Black. "It's not too late to turn back."

"Can you read the inscriptions?" asked Roy.

"Beware all those who enter the dragon's den," said Cynder, "All those who enter shall perish."

August turned to Twile. "The deaths only started a few months ago, right? That means the dragons inside must be young. Hatchlings. There are probably eggs in there, even."

"That's if mother dragon isn't home," said Cynder.

"Think of the treasure," replied August. "Even one piece –"

"I'm going in," said Twile. "I have to do this for my village. We need money if we're going to evacuate – as things are we can't afford to go to Fallcrest. I need that treasure. Now, I don't hear anything inside, so I doubt the mother dragon is in right now. If we hurry we can do this. How do we open the door?"

"It can only be opened by a dragon," said Cynder. He moved forward and touched the door with his claw. With an earth-shaking rumble, the door began to sink into the ground. "—Or a dragonborn."

Inside the cave there were several nests filled with gigantic eggs. Roy counted them: one, two… seven. Seven young dragons just waiting to hatch.

There were also piles of gold and gemstones. The horde was small for a dragon, but this nest was new, so that wasn't a surprise. Roy quickly grabbed a shiny sapphire and a handful of gold pieces; the others did the same, taking what they could carry.

Suddenly Roy heard a cracking sound. He whirled around just in time to see a hatchling white dragon break out of its shell. It poked its head through and stared at the group with yellow eyes.


	4. The Assassin

The baby dragon had perfectly white scales, and it stared at the group with reptilian yellow eyes, clicking its forked tongue. It didn't yet know how to speak any meaningful language.

Roy backed away slowly. "Let's get out of here," he whispered. "Now."

But as he had almost reached the door, the hatchling burst out of its shell. The remaining pieces of egg were strewn to the ground as the creature stretched its wings for the first time.

Roy readied his bow and fired a shot, but the arrow bounced off the dragon's scales. The baby dragon made a sharp, whining cry.

"He'll call back the mother dragon if she's in range to hear that sound," said Roy. "We have to kill it, and fast."

Everyone had drawn their weapons. August crashed a magic missile into its side, but the dragon looked mostly unharmed. They would just have to rush it and whittle it down. Roy shot more arrows: one, two… the dragon seemed to be immune to some of their attacks, but slowly it was losing traction.

The dragon whirled around and attacked Cynder, biting deep into his flesh. As the dragonborn fell, Twile ran up to the beast and stabbed a short sword into its side.

Green blood poured from the open wound and the hatchling stumbled. Roy offered a thumbs-up. Now, he would aim for the wound.

His hands shook slightly; he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt the tension in his bow. The ranger opened his eyes and steadied himself. He would make this shot.

With a twang, he released the arrow. It dug deep into the dragon's side, right on target. The dragon cried again, this time moving in circles. It opened its mouth and breathed a tendril of ice out at anyone close enough to be hit by it. Twile and Black were both knocked backwards onto the ground.

One more shot. Roy loaded his weapon, aimed, and fired.

The arrow found its target, and with a whimper the hatchling dragon fell.

Cynder was still on the ground, but everyone else had gotten to their feet. A sudden chill struck the air.

"Anyone else feel that?" asked August.

"We have to get out," said Twile. "We have to go – now!"

He scooped up as many jewels as he could carry and ran out the door to the den. Roy and Black did the same, while August helped Cynder walk.

They backtracked to the village as quickly as they could and deposited their spoils in the cart.

"We all have to evacuate immediately," said Twile. "We're about to have a very angry mother dragon on our case."

August frowned. "Cynder's in no shape to go."

Black motioned to the cart. "Let's wheel him."

They set about lifting the barely-conscious Cynder into the cart. The village healer emerged from her house and began dressing his wound. Slowly, more and more villagers trickled out of their homes. There were about thirty in all. The healer was the only person over twenty Roy could see, and she was an old woman. She must have been in hiding when the Purge came, he realized.

Finally, Twile returned with the last of his crew and motioned for them to move out into the woods. Just as they entered the relative safety of the trees, they could hear the roar of a dragon in the distance.

#

They walked on all day and into the night, making a straight run until reaching Fallcrest. They were lucky enough to not run into anything bigger than dire rats and the occasional wolf. The winds whipped viciously about the travelers; a blizzard was on its way. Perhaps the wildlife had retreated in the wake of the storm.

The fleeing villagers looked a bit lifeless as they walked, as if they themselves were casualties of war. They do not speak, and carry their meager possessions with them in canvas sacks slung over their backs.

By the time they reached the city gate, Cynder was strong enough to walk again. A city guard stopped them at the gate.

"What is your business in this city?" he demanded.

"We are returning from a quest," said Cynder.

"Surely not all of you were hired for a quest! Where do these people come from? These children?"

One of Twile's crew spoke up. "We come from Alderhill, sir. A dragon made a nest next to our village. We were in grave danger."

"Hm," said the guard. "You'll have to be quarantined and inspected for disease before we can let you into the city. Filth fever, those things, you know."

"Whatever we need to do," begged the bandit.

"But as for those of you who are returning from a quest, you may enter." The gate swung open, and the four warriors, plus Twile, walked through it.

"Well, I guess our quest is over," said Black. "Let's go get our thirty gold."

"You're leaving them behind?" whispered August to Twile.

Twile nodded. "The best thing I can do is try to become strong enough to defeat the rest of those dragons myself, so we can return to Alderhill. I will go with you."

"We are going to a tavern known for being frequented by warriors looking for quests. You should have no problem finding a job there," said Roy.

"And I can use the money to help support the villagers," Twile added.

"Perhaps we should head to the marketplace first," said Black. "Before the storm hits. They'll already be packing up their wares. But perhaps we can unload some of our horde."

There was a general murmur of agreement and the group headed for the marketplace.

#

After selling some of their gemstones, they headed straight for the tavern. They had been sitting there for almost an hour waiting for the messenger to show up.

"Perhaps he's gone home for the blizzard, too," said Cynder.

"You don't have to wait if you don't want to," replied Black. "It's every man for himself now. Quest over."

Just as he finished speaking, a shuriken whizzed past and lodged itself into the wall behind Black's face. In the distance, a figure could be seen receding into the shadows.


	5. The Siege of Fallcrest

Roy immediately ran out into the street and saw a man running away. He barreled down the street chasing after the would-be assassin, readying his bow as he ran.

Aiming at the back of the man's knee, Roy fired a shot. The arrow lodged itself into the dirt of the road. He aimed and fired again. This time, the man stumbled and fell.

The ranger was tying the wounded man's hands behind his back when the rest of the group showed up.

"Who are you and why are you here?" demanded Black, holding the terrified man up by his shirt collar.

"M-my name is Dayn and I – I was hired to kill you!"

"Who hired you?"

"I – if I tell you, he'll kill me!"

"I'll kill you right now," threatened Black.

"I come from Batterhill," said Dayn, speaking very quickly, "My employer is a gang leader there, who told me to kill the vampire Black Widow because Widow's gang was encroaching on our territory –"

Black narrowed his eyes. "Give me the name."

"I – I can't –"

Without hesitation, Black pulled a dagger and slit Dayn's throat. The body slumped and fell into the dirt with a dull thud. Blood gurgled from the open wound, splattering onto the ground and onto Black's shoes. Black licked the blood off his dagger and sheathed it.

"So," said Cynder, "You're a vampire and a gang leader."

"Yes. I am."

"You must have enough gold to bury yourself in," said Roy. "So why bother coming on our quest?"

Black shrugged. "I've been… away for a while."

The group exchanged glances, but said nothing. After a moment, Roy motioned for them to head back to the tavern.

#

Above the tavern, there was an inn. The inn-keeper was a gruff old man of an exasperated temperament. He was chewing on a piece of tobacco when Roy approached him.

"Excuse me," said the elf.

"Whaddya want? We're closed."

"I was hoping to get a room. Several rooms, actually."

"Only got one room available, and it'll cost ya," replied the inn-keeper.

Roy looked to the group. "We can split the price if we take it," he suggested. The others nodded in agreement – they didn't have much of a choice. Outside, snow had already begun to accumulate.

#

He heard Black's voice: "Fire! Get up!"

It was around two in the morning when Roy woke to the sounds of men shouting and metal clashing. Drowsily, he poked his head out the small window to discover tongues of flame lashing at the tavern, and crawling up towards the inn. Below, hordes of goblins were rampaging through the streets.

Hurriedly he made his way down the stairs. The others, also woken by Black's call, rushed to grab what they could and ran after him.

The goblins were parading down the road, lighting buildings on fire and attacking anyone they crossed paths with. A chorus of screaming filled the air, and some of the goblins chanted "For the glory of Yeenoghu the demon lord!"

Roy shot arrow after arrow, but it seemed that whenever he took one down there were two more to take their place. If they were following the orders of a demon lord, they wouldn't stop until the city was in complete ruins and nobody was left alive.

"We have to get out of here," said Twile.

"Wait," Black interjected. "Let's try to capture a commander."

"What's the point? We know they're working for Yeenoghu," Cynder replied.

Black shook his head. "Not necessarily. They could have been hired by somebody else."

"Let's move towards the gate," said August. "And we'll see what we come across."

As they snuck towards the gate, they came across a goblin that was bigger than the others and dressed in more elaborate armor. "There," said Black, pointing at it. "That's got to be a commander."

They were hiding in the wreck of a building behind the goblin commander and his entourage, and all at once they jumped out and began their attack.

Roy fired his arrows at the commander while the others took out the smaller goblins with melee attacks. They took them out with relative ease, and soon all five of them were ganging up on the commander.

"Wait!" said the goblin. "I surrender! I surrender!"

Black held a knife to the goblin's throat. "What is your name, and why are you attacking this city?"

"My name is General Skemad, and we were hired to attack this ciy," said the goblin.

After flashing an I-told-you-so smirk, Black returned to his interrogation. "Who hired you?"

But before Skemad could answer, another wave of goblins attacked. One landed on Black's shoulder and caused him to fall backwards. Skemad escaped behind the ranks.

The group fought back this second wave of attackers, and then rushed for the gate, which was now little more than a pile of rubble.

#

"Who would hire an army of goblins to attack Fallcrest while claiming to be under orders from a demon lord?" asked Black. They were in the woods south of Fallcrest now, camping out with what equipment they had.

Twile shrugged. "The temple of Bahamut," he suggested.

Cynder's gaze was fixed on the ground as he said, "I think it must be."

"They're out of control," said August. "But there's no way we can stop them."

Roy thought about it for a moment. "What if we made an alliance with Yeenoghu? We could tell Yeenoghu that the temple is impersonating him, get him to attack the temple – have them wipe each other out, even."

Black shook his head. "He won't do it. His forces aren't enough to overpower the temple's."

"We'll raise our own army," Roy added. "Send them in."

August blinked. "Where are we going to get an army, though?"

"You're talking about something that would change the entire world," said Cynder. "Are you sure we can do this?"

"Why not?" said Roy.

Twile nodded. "I'm in. The temple of Bahamut destroyed by home, slaughtered my village. I'll do anything to defeat them."

"I'll have to consult Bahamut about this," said Cynder.

"That's it!" Roy interrupted. "Once we've got the corrupted followers of Bahamut and the followers of Yeenoghu all in once place – if we could convince Bahamut to come and wipe them all out – it'd be like two birds with one stone for him."

"First things first: We'll need an army of our own if we want to convince Yeenoghu to attack," said Black. "And I know just where to get one. It's time for the Black Widow to return to Batterhill."


End file.
